Lovely
by because-it-rhymes
Summary: "It was nice meeting you…" "Louis." I say quietly. He nods, his messy curls falling into his face. With a shrug he pushes them back, allowing them to sit in a mop like style on top of his head. "Louis. That's a nice name." He murmurs, quieter than I was. "Oh…well thank you-" "Harry." He grins again, "I'm Harry." lovely-a-larry-fanfic.
1. Chapter 1

Harry/Louis AU

Part One: Louis

Whenever I get lonely, I find that it's best to go out and walk. Mum always said that being lonely is bad for your health; and that if you are lonely, you ought to fix it right away.

Since Mum died, it seems to always be lonely around here; and I've been doing a lot of walking. I suppose that the move doesn't really help things either though. Dad moved us all to Holmes Chapel for his work about a month back, and I've yet to make any friends. School starts up in about two weeks here; so I've been hoping and praying that things improve then. This will be my last year of school and I'm not really wanting to graduate a loner.

I've never really been big on the whole "friends" thing, now that you mention it. Back in Doncaster I had a few mates, but no one I'd really bother to call or keep in contact with now that we've left. You know, just sort of people you sit with on breaks, and maybe meet up with on the weekends. I have yet to meet a best mate though. That's what I really want. Someone I can call if I need to talk, and who likes the same things I like. Someone who can come on my walks with me. Not a girl though. In Doncaster most of my friends were girls. After I came out, the boys at school wouldn't talk to me. I got beat up a lot, too. There was even one time where Liam Payne, the captain of the school's football team hit me with his car. The result was a dislocated shoulder and four broken fingers; all of which on my right hand. After I had been on the ground for a few minutes, Liam pinned my shoulders down and had Zayn Malik, who was also on the football team, write "Faggot" up both my arms, and on my forehead.

The dean of my school didn't do much about it though. Liam told her that I "ran into traffic", and the whole thing was dismissed as my fault. He even made me pay for the dent on his bumper.

That's what finalized the move for Dad, I think. I couldn't explain it like I had with the other beatings. Those could've been written off as a fall down the stairs, or slipping on some ice. But I had had to call 9-9-9 and the doctor at the hospital told my dad what had happened. As soon as school had finished, we moved away.

Now here we are, in Holmes Chapel, Cheshire. It's definitely not a big place, but it has a sort of small town charm that dad's always going off about. There's really not much here, just houses, a few shops and a small school; where I'll be attending in a few weeks.

After wandering around town for a bit longer, I start to get hungry. Glancing around, I notice a bakery at the end of the road. I re-adjust my beanie on my head, and walk over.

It's an old building. I can tell that it was once a bold and vibrant shade of yellow, but that has since faded, leaving a tinged and rustic looking exterior. The roof and door were both a burgundy. The paint on the doors and the windowsills was chipping, and I could see the beige rock underneath what was once new and polished. I don't know why I'm nervous, but I am. I just hate ordering food. I always feel like the staff of wherever I am is judging me based on what I order; or that they make fat jokes about me in their head as I'm ordering. This is why I usually avoid these sorts of places. But, I didn't eat dinner last night, or breakfast this morning, so I guess if I eat something small it's not too bad is it? Or what if I just get tea? Tea is always good. Earl Grey tea with a third milk and two packets of sweetener. That's the best way to do it. It also only has about twenty five calories, which isn't too bad considering that I've been walking all day.

I shake off my nerves and open the door. Immediately the fresh aroma of baking bread fills my nostrils. I come into the shop, closing the door behind me. That's always been a habit of mine too. Dad would always get mad if I didn't close doors behind me though. Friendly reminder that they are not heating the outside.

I look around the bakery. If anything, it appears relatively normal. There are a few tables along one side, each with four chairs around them. The tiles in the floor are dark brown, and are all shiny like they had just been mopped. The other side is home to a long counter filled with different types of bread, as well as cupcakes and other sweets. A register sits at the end of the counter, and behind it stands-

I feel a pain shoot up my left hip, and I realize that I've smacked right into the corner of the counter.

"Oops." I cry. I suppose I was quite loud, because the boy that was standing behind the register looks up at me.

"Hi!" He calls. His chocolate coloured curls bounce on top of his head as he approaches me. He's got this massive grin on his face, revealing these adorable little dimples in the sides of his cheeks. "Are you alright?"

I feel the heat rise in my cheeks, and in response my eyes dart to the ground, unable to keep contact with his.

"Yeah I just bumped into the co…" I trail off. He laughs and shakes his head.

"You gotta watch for those. Counters are awful little things, always bumping into people."

I giggle and look up at him, "I suppose so."

He shakes his head, "They should watch where they're going!"

I can't help but notice the way he laughs at his own jokes. I think it's cute, but at the same time, I think he might think it's cute as well. I also kind of wonder if he thinks I'm cute. Probably not; I can't imagine someone like him going for someone like me. That is if he's into guys like me. I can never seem to tell.

"Well." He says, sounding rather satisfied with himself. "I didn't notice that you bumped the counter. I just heard your-"

"Oops?" I cut him off.

He laughs, "Yeah! Exactly! And then you heard me go "Hi!" and now we're…talking."

"Yeah." I grin.

We're quiet for a moment, both of us with these smug smiles plastered across our faces.

"Can I get you something?" He asks politely.

"Oh, I-I" I stammer, "Tea. I'd like a-a tea, please."

"A tea?" he confirms, "Which bag should I put in?"

I completely forgot about that. He probably thinks I'm such a ditz. No brains at all. "Oh! Um, earl grey with a third milk and two packets of sweetener."

The boy nods, and sets to it, filling a paper cup with hot water before adding milk, sweetener, and a tea bag. With an artistic sort of grace he stirs it up and pops a lid on, begin careful to mark it with what's in it.

"Just down here, if you don't mind."

I walk to the register a bit too quickly, and I know that he noticed my excitement. He laughs again, placing my tea on the counter in front of him. "It'll be € 1. 50, if you've got it."

I reach into my bag and pull out a € 5.00 note and hand it to him. He enters it in, and hands me my change, but he takes a while with my receipt, writing something on the back.

"Here you are. € 3.50, a receipt, and your tea."

He lifts it from the counter and holds it out to me, smiling.

"Thank you." I say gratefully, taking it from him.

He glances down at the floor and folds one of his arms behind his back.

"Well," I begin, gesturing to the door, "I should be…going..."

"Yeah." The boy looks a bit sad, but he comes around the counter and stands with me, "It was nice meeting you…"

"Louis." I say quietly. He nods, his curls falling into his face.

With a shrug he pushes them back, allowing them to sit in a mop like style on his head.

"Louis. That's a nice name." He says, quieter than I was.

"Oh…well thank you-"

"Harry." He grins again, "I'm Harry."


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two: Louis

On my way out, I stumble over the steps leading up to the door of the bakery. I snap my head around only to see Harry in the window, laughing as he wipes the tables down. He certainly noticed. He gives me a small wave, and goes back to what he was doing.

Harry.

There was something about his name- however common it was- that stuck out to me. It was a very nice name; handsome even. It seemed to suit him well, too.

Harry.

I quite like the way it sounds. And his voice, it had this kind of raspy quality to it that made him all the more charming. He was just so…enticing. That was the only way I could think to describe him. He was indescribable, and unexplainable and completely-

Harry.

He was Harry. That was, in retrospect, the only way of putting it. His name was the only word suitable for him. No matter how hard I tried, it seemed that there was absolutely no proper words I could use that did him any justice.

I wonder if he has a last name. Who am I kidding of course he does. It probably matches his first name like socks to feet, or like a compass to a ship. There was a certainty in my head that whatever his last name turned out to be, it would be just as wonderful as his first name.

All sorts of thoughts like these filled my head the entire walk home. It seemed that the way back was a lot shorter than the way there. My walk before had been a quiet sort of saunter, and now it was rather quick and skippy. There was no possibility of me calming down, and from the back of my mind, I knew I probably wouldn't sleep tonight.

But for some reason, I didn't mind at all.

I slid my right hand into the pocket of my sweater and rested it there. It was around four o'clock, and the breeze was starting to pick up a bit. Thinking back now, I should've worn a proper jacket; but in my haste to get out of the house, practicality had slipped my mind. Oh well, I wasn't too far from the house anyway. Holmes Chapel is not a particularly big place, and just about everything is within a twenty minute walk from home.

I finished my tea relatively quickly, tossing the paper cup into a trash bin on the sidewalk. I felt bad throwing it out, Harry's writing on it and all. Is that pathetic? I don't know, perhaps it's a bit weird. I definitely won't be telling anyone about that.

With my tea hand now free of my tea, I place it into the other pocket of my knitted sweater. My bag slips behind me, bouncing off my bum as I walk. The wind picks up more, sending a cold rush up my back. I dig my fingernails (or what's left of them, I have a nasty nail biting habit) into the corners of my sweater pockets. When I do so, I feel a crinkly, rough object in my right pocket.

Why hadn't I noticed that before?

I stop my walking, and pull the paper out. It's the receipt from the bakery, and it's all wrinkled. Despite this, I can perfectly make out a scribble of black ink on the back:

It was lovely meeting you today. I can't wait to see you again! Please come back here soon.

Harry x

PS- Give me a ring sometime, its +44 5879563245

I nearly dropped the receipt for my excitement. My hands immediately go to cover my mouth. I squeal through my fingers, kicking into the ground with the ends of my shoes repeatedly. I don't think I can make any words, for when I try to it only comes out as little wails of delight. Not unlike a toddler on Christmas. I grip the paper in between my trembling fingers, and run the rest of the way home.

Part Two And A Half: Harry

At around four fifteen, Diana sends me home for lack of customers. That's been happening a lot lately, but then again, I guess the recession is really taking its toll on business. The hardware store closed its doors about a month ago; and they'd been open for almost thirty years. Diana reckons that if business doesn't pick up soon, she'll have to close as well. It's awful, so many people are getting put out of a job, my dad included. We're lucky that I haven't been laid off yet, we need the extra money. Mum's had to go back to work at the pharmacy too; and they almost didn't take her back. She wouldn't tell me how she got her job back, but whatever she did, I'm glad. It's really hit us hard. Last month, when dad got laid off, our income was reduced by about sixty percent; and we didn't make rent in time. There was even one day that I came home from school to find an eviction notice on the front door. Mum wouldn't stop crying. We barely scraped by that month; and we ended up having to empty out my little sister Beccah's piggy bank, and I gave her my paycheque so that we could stay. Since then, I've been pulling as many shifts as I can at the bakery, and Mum's been working nine to nine, and then she comes home, changes clothes and goes back out again. When she does go out at night, she's gone all night. The next mornings are always a bit weird, she'll come home in a tight dress and a lot of messy makeup; and her hairs always tussled like she just woke up. Dad's been going out every morning and applying in different places too. He's had no success yet, but one day, someone will hire him. I hope.

It's all been quite stressful, but none of us complain. I don't think that any of us really can, we all know that everyone's doing all they can to help out.

We don't think Beccah fully understands what's going on, and why Mum and I are always working. Nor does she understand why when Mum sends me to the shop I have to show the people at the desk some paperwork from the government, and then give them a stamp in exchange for a week's worth of food.

However, despite this, I've had a moment today. Several moments, actually, where all the stress was gone. Like magic, it all just up and disappeared. I was at work, cleaning up, and in walks this boy.

He was stunning. His body was much smaller than mine, and he had this blue beanie on his head, that showed a bit of his light brown fringe. He had his pants rolled up at the ankles, and I could see his bare feet sitting in his black Toms. They really suited him, the Toms. He had lovely eyes too. A deep sort of blue; like an ocean. One could easily get lost in them. But when he smiled, that was probably the best part.

When he smiled, the whole room just lit up. His eyes got all scrunched and he blushed something awful. I could tell that he was shy, and probably very nervous. And though I did everything I could to make him feel comfortable, really, I did; I think at first he thought I was a tad creepy.

But not by the time we finished talking. Well. I think maybe I did more of the talking. See. I started babbling like I always do when I get butterflies in my stomach, but I couldn't help it. He was just so…

He's just the type of person that I want to sit, and just…admire what he's like.

Louis.

Louis is his name.

You can call me crazy, but I think he might've liked me. There is nothing I want more than for him to like me. I even gave him my telephone number on his receipt; and I really do hope he finds it and calls me. It would be wonderful to hear from him tonight. Or perhaps tomorrow, I don't want to press him. Maybe he'll come to the bakery again tomorrow.

What if he does?

Of course I'd have to make sure everything is nice and clean. Maybe I'll go in early, just in case he comes back before the start of my shift. Mind you, my shift starts at ten am, he shouldn't be in before then. Should he?

No matter, I'll go at eight, just to be safe.

I spent the rest of the day trying to decide what to wear tomorrow. I'm really not sure what sort of thing Louis is into, so I don't have much to base my decision off of. After a few hours of debate, I end up settling on an old burgundy sweatshirt, and a pair of tight black jeans; as well as my grey beanie. It's my absolute favorite, the grey one. My aunt Gemma got it for me for Christmas last year, and I've lived in it since.

At around ten thirty, I settle into bed, with my freshly ironed sweater, and pants sat on the chair next to me. I always fiddle around with my phone for a bit before going to bed, checking the internet and whatnot. However, today as I'm doing so, I'm interrupted.

It's a phone call.

From a new number.

The phone continues to ring as I panic. What if it's Louis?

What if it is Louis? I nearly drop my phone trying to press the answer key. When I finally manage it, I glue the device to my ear, listening for his voice.

"Hello?" I greet, trying to sound as confident as possible. The voice on the other end of the line stammers a bit before answering.

"Hi…H-Harry. It's um…It's Louis."


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three: Harry

"Hi…H-Harry. It's um…it's Louis."

It's Louis.

_What do I say?_

"Harry?" Louis' voice sounds concerned, "are you alright?"

Still I have no words.

_Why can't I say anything? Damn it! _

"Oh, goodness, have I got the wrong number? I'm so sorry, I was trying to call Ha-"

"Harry?" I blurt. Instantly I regret cutting him off.

From my end of the line, I hear Louis gasp. Not a shocked gasp though, more so a small, quick gasp. It was like gasping from good news. An "oh, yes!" gasp, if you will.

"Harry!" He exclaims, "Yeah! That's who I was trying to call-wait."

He goes silent for a moment, clearly deep in sarcastic contemplation. When Louis doesn't continue talking right away, I begin to wonder if he isn't being sarcastic at all, and that he actually is just naturally this bubbly. I don't mind it though, I actually think it's kind of cute.

"Is this Harry?" he asks, serious.

_Guess he wasn't being sarcastic. _

I laugh under my breath. "It sure is."

Despite the lack of face, I can hear Louis' grin all the way over here.

"Oh, good! I hoped it was you! You sound so different on the phone, did you know? Your voice is a lot deeper. Not bad deep though, don't worry you don't sound like a walrus or anything you just-it's sort of nice."

He collects his words for a moment, sighing once or twice before carrying on.

"Do you know what I mean? Like, there are some people who get on the phone and sound like a completely different person, but not you, Harry, you sound so…mature! Yes, that's a good word for it. You are quite mature though, look at us, me here, babbling away and you're ju-"

For the second time in about five minutes, he goes silent.

"Is everything alright?" I ask. I'm a twinge concerned. He sounded a bit like he almost dropped the phone. "Lou?"

He giggles on the other end of line, mumbling "Lou" under his breath, along with a few other things I couldn't quite make out.

"Oh!" He startled himself, "I'm so sorry Harry, you haven't been able to get a word in edgewise. I'm sorry, I've got a bit of a problem with babbling when I get worked up but I can't help it! I'm just; _nervous_ I guess. Dad's always going off at me about it and how it's irritating and all, I've been working on it though, really Harry I have. But it took me almost a half hour just to build up the guts to call in the first place. But now I'm glad I did!"

Now it was my turn to smile big enough for him to hear. He was quite literally glowing, but it had this but of adorable to it that you could not overlook.

"We should have these conversations more often, Harry. I like them" Louis beamed, still giggling a bit. "You're so much fun to talk to. You know, we've been talking almost ten minutes and you haven't hung up yet. I think this might be a new record! I'll have to write this one down..." he trailed off.

It was so refreshing, listening to someone as unscathed as Louis talk. He spoke as though this rather pointless conversation we were having was the only thing in the world that mattered; like if you could define joy with conversation, he would define it with this one. He came across as rather naïve to life, but I suppose his naivety is what makes him the way he is. It suited him, the naivety, and though it was obvious he was inexperienced as far as life goes, I didn't mind one bit. Speaking to him made me feel happier, and after being on the phone for about an hour, I began to share his perspective. Perhaps this moment really was all that mattered.

Everything had been so stressful lately, I found that just listening to him banter about-well, bantering, was relaxing me. I didn't have to worry about anything with him. It was both comforting and but somehow worrisome at the same time. On one hand, I was slowly becoming more interested in him, which I liked. A lot; but on the other hand, what if something was to happen to him? What if he doesn't like me? Earlier he had talked about people hanging up on him in the middle of a conversation. He had told me about being hit with somebody's car-a Liam Payne- after coming out last year. Louis had been through so many difficult things in his life thus far, and I didn't want to add to them. Quite frankly, I was surprised he's not terribly bitter.

I was only a year younger than he was, and we'd be attending school together, as he had mentioned. He'd be a senior and I a junior. It was my hope that things would go well with Louis, and that it would give me more support in my coming out.

When I told Louis that I hadn't come out yet, he didn't seem to mind.

"I wouldn't worry too much about that Harry." He had said, "When you realize that it's time, you'll want to tell everyone. It's the greatest feeling in the world, when you can finally tell people who you really are."

When I don't say anything, he continues on.

"But, until you're ready, you have to try and find one good thing about all the bad things. Like, for example, I spilt some juice earlier; but when I bent over to wipe it up, I realized that I was finally flexible enough to get my palms flat on the floor."

He sounded so satisfied with himself. I chuckle, "That was the highlight of your day? Touching the ground?"

I can sense the sudden nervousness from Louis' end. "Well, not exactly."

"Do I have to guess what it was?"

He starts giggling again. "It was you, silly."

There are no words to describe how I felt. I can't even speak for my excitement. I almost squeal, but no sounds come out. Instead I'm left sitting on my bed, flapping my hands uncontrollably.

"Harry?"

"I was hoping you would say that." I beam. "You were the highlight of mine too."

Louis actually squeals. He does more than that. He makes just about every sound I would have made, only all in sequence, and with about ten times the volume. This only adds to my own amusement, and the hand flaps get worse.

"I'm so glad!" he nearly shouts. "Harry I'm so glad!"

"Lou-"

"Oh, Harry! I was praying you'd say that too!" He sighs, "See, I wanted to tell you when I met you this afternoon, but I couldn't do it. I was so scared! You don't understand how happy you've just made me."

"That's so good, Lou! I'm happy. I'm so happy."

Louis titters, and starts moving around. There is some shuffling on the phone, and I can tell he's settling into bed. He doesn't speak again until he's presumably laying down.

"Say, Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you working tomorrow? At the bakery?"

"I sure am, Ten to four." I explain. "Do you think you'd be able to come in?"

He makes the small gasping sound again. "I want to come and see you."

"I'd like to see you too."

"You start at ten?" he confirms.

"And I'm done at four."

"Well I'll see you at ten, then!"

The two of us just sort of sit in a pleasant silence for a few moments after that, just listening to the sound of the others breathing. Eventually,I roll over on my bed and realize the time.

3:34 am

"Lou?"

"Yeah?" he mumbles.

"It's late, you should go to sleep."

"Alright, Harry. You should probably go to sleep too."

"Goodnight, Lou."

"Goodnight, Harry."


End file.
